


they’re almost family

by static_abyss



Series: A Collection of Castus fic [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Gen, discussion of minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heracleo never told Castus that in order to drop a note in a trashcan, Castus had to be arrested for murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they’re almost family

”Did you murder the kid?” the cop asks.

Castus looks up from the metal table between him and the cop—Spartacus, embroidered on his navy uniform. His hands are handcuffed to the armrests of the metal chair, chafing the skin on Castus’s wrists. He twists his right hand, trying to get the feeling back in his hand, but the cuffs are too tight. The other cop who handcuffed him here, Agron, didn’t seem to like Castus very much.

"I didn’t murder anybody," Castus says, careful to keep all expressions of his face.

Heracleo had told him that Castus looked more likely to murder someone when he didn’t smile. But the cop sitting in front of Castus has the beginnings of a black eye, and doesn’t seem like he’d take it well if Castus smiled. The cop knows Castus is a thief, and Castus isn’t stupid enough to provoke the guy.

The cop blows air out of his nose, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. He crosses his arms and Castus can’t help the way his eyes linger. The cop is attractive, in a dark haired, blue eyed, classical kind of way. Not exactly Castus’s type, but attractive enough that Castus might give it a go. The other cop was good looking too, angry. Castus likes angry people. They’re good fucks, even if they’re bad at conversations.

"If you didn’t murder," here the cop stops to look at his papers. "If you didn’t murder Sabinus Crassus, then who did?"

"Directly or indirectly?" Castus asks, the grin taking over his face almost without his permission.

The cop’s face doesn’t change, and Castus has to turn his face to the right to try and hide his genuine amusement. He’s aware of the two-way glass behind him, the camera, and the microphones, and he wonders who’s listening. Heracleo hadn’t been clear on who exactly the dirty cop in the department was, and Castus didn’t like going in blind. But he’d promised he’d die for the fucking gang three years ago, and this was him, metaphorically dying for the fucking gang.

The job was easy enough, just drop the note in the blue wastepaper basket by the entrance to the precinct. It hadn’t even been hard to do it, with the angry cop not even pretending that he wasn’t trying to shove Castus into things on purpose. Heracleo had said that it didn’t matter what the cops did to Castus, because they most likely wouldn’t be able to prove that Castus did whatever he was brought in for. What Heracleo hadn’t told Castus was that Castus was getting dragged into the precinct on a murder charge. But Castus is the kind of guy who takes the bad and makes it good, so he turns back to the cop and settles more comfortably into his metal chair.

"This isnt fun," Castus says, his back starting to ache.

"Murder isn’t supposed to be fun," the cop says. "Now, why don’t you tell me again, who murdered Sabinus Crassus?"

"I don’t know, Officer Spartacus," Castus drawls, lacing the last two words with suggestion.

Officer Spartacus raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and it’s a shame, really. Castus was starting to like the guy.

"You’re a smart guy," Officer Spartacus says, leaning forward across the table. Castus doesn’t lift his head, though he knows that’s what the cop wants.

"I am," Castus tells him, lifting his eyes to look at Officer Spartacus through his eyelashes.

"Then you know I’m the good cop, and that the officer that handcuffed you to that chair is the bad cop."

"I figured it out when he dug his knee into my back outside the store," Castus answers.

"He gets over excited," Officer Spartacus nods, as though he’s Castus’s friend and they’re talking about the weather.

Castus waits for more, but Officer Spartacus is staring at something behind Castus. The silence in the room gives Castus time to think. He’s trying to figure out how much the police officers know, and how much evidence there is against him. Heracleo hadn’t been clear on that either, not that Castus expected any different. Being in Heracleo’s gang doesn’t mean Castus trusts Heracleo, or that the man trusts him.

The whole gang thing is messed up and now that Castus is in, he isn’t sure how he’s going to get out. He’s talked some of the new guys onto his side, but for now it just seems better to stay. Heracleo makes sure that if everyone does their part, everyone eats. They have a relatively safe place to sleep in if things at home go bad, and Heracleo has always been good at making problems with the law go away. Castus can forgive him for being an asshole on this job as long as no one throws Castus in jail.

"Sorry about that," Officer Spartacus says, a few seconds later. "My partner wants to know if he can come in."

Castus frowns, but then he spots the headset in the cop’s ear. It’s impressive actually, how small the things have gotten that Castus hadn’t noticed.

"I’d rather he didn’t," Castus says. "If he gets angry and starts yelling at me, I might react in ways he probably won’t like."

"You’re handcuffed to a chair."

"Angry people are good fucks."

Officer Spartacus doesn’t even bat an eyelash, and Castus is impressed. He’s pretty much just buying time, because with Heracleo it’s just about waiting long enough for his plan to make sense. Castus has waited long enough already and he’s starting to get anxious.

Heracleo is good at making people he doesn’t like go away, and Castus can’t even afford a proper lawyer. If Heracleo wants Castus locked away for murder then Castus is fucked. And he’s not even sure what he did to make Heracleo mad. Or even if Heracleo is mad, and the uncertainty is what is putting Castus on edge.

"Who gave you the tip?" he asks Officer Spartacus.

"You know we got a tip?"

Castus shrugs, not even bothering to be careful now. “Lucky guess,” he says.

There is a crash from right outside the interrogation room door just as Spartacus narrows his eyes at Castus. Castus leans back into his chair and tries to make out what the people shouting outside are saying. Officer Spartacus stands up, halfway to the door when it burst open and the angry cop walks in followed by Tryphon, one of Heracleo’s men.

"Spartacus," Officer Agron Petersen, now that Castus gets a good look at the man’s uniform, says."This asshole just walked in here saying that we have to let _that_ asshole,” he pauses to point at Castus. “Go.”

"You want to be careful, Officer Petersen," Tryphon says, exchanging an eyeroll with Castus. "We could sue."

There’s some talking between Tryphon and Officer Spartacus, and Castus learns that there is no evidence of him having murdered Sabinus Crassus. Officer Agron is especially rough in removing the handcuffs, but it could just be because Castus won’t stop grinning at him.

"We should have some coffee sometime," Castus can’t help but say, as he walks after Tryphon. "I’m really interested in knowing how long it’d take you to give in and punch me in the face."

Officer Agron glares and Castus thinks the guy really is going to go after him, but then Agron just shrugs. “That’s kind of fucked up,” he says.

Castus is still laughing as he makes his way out of the precinct.

-

Heracleo is waiting across the street in a black SUV with New York license plates that belongs to a contact in New York City. Castus looks down the road, makes sure there are no weird cars parked down the street, and walks over to Heracleo. He’s barely gotten into the car when Heracleo leans over to roll the window up on Castus’s side.

Castus leans back in his seat and lets out a deep breath. He turns his body towards Heracleo, once the windows are up, and motions Heracleo closer. “Next time you try to pin a murder on me,” Castus whispers into Heracleo’s face. “I’ll have my boys cut your throat. Do you understand?”

Heracleo’s laugh echoes in the car, loud and amused. He’s still smiling when he speaks to Castus. “You have no boys,” Heracleo says. “They’re mine, and so are you.”

Castus grins. “Yeah,” he says. “I forgot.”

Heracleo gives him an assessing look, but Castus is staring at the road in front of them. He’s known Heracleo long enough that Heracleo will read a threat as open as that one, as just Castus letting some of the stress out. And as long as Heracleo doesn’t fuck up again, Castus won’t have to show him just how much control over the gang Heracleo has lost.

 


End file.
